


Sputnik

by Helasdottir



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Body modifications, Erratic Updates, M/M, Piercings, Slow Burn, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-10-22 17:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helasdottir/pseuds/Helasdottir
Summary: Jim Kirk has always had his nose stuck in a book, but now he's starting to look outwards. With that change comes a new style and new possibilities, which brings him into contact with one Leonard "Bones" McCoy right in the heart of San Francisco.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Trek work, please be gentle.

Jim Kirk had tried the bad boy thing in high school and failed miserably. He would take what Frank gave him and lash out at school, picking fights where he shouldn’t and ending up in detention with bruises to last him days. Despite that, he still spent most afternoons in the library and kept his grades as high as they could be. His only friend through most of those years was one Gary Mitchell, who called him a stack of books with legs for his love of reading.

He turned things around senior year, when he was able to get a job at a bookstore doing what he loved – recommending his favorites to a diverse mass of readers. He had to deal with some bad customers, of course, but there were also days when the store was empty and he could hide out between the bookshelves and read for a few minutes until Nyota caught him and threatened to tell the manager.

He read everything from biology to astrophysics, learning as much as he could and enjoying even what he didn’t retain. Over time, as finals approached and even Nyota needed to study when the store was quiet, they built an understanding – one wouldn’t tell on the other and they could both read in peace. He learned that she loved languages and she found out about his love of space, not to mention their shared love of music, and soon they found themselves in a tentative friendship.

Things evolved further when Gary lashed out at Jim for not having his back in a fight where Gary was clearly in the wrong, having cheated on his girlfriend and refused to apologize for it, and then Jim was at Nyota’s house in the middle of the night drinking from a smuggled bottle of blueberry flavored vodka.

“I mean, I knew he was an asshole, but _God_ , he’s an asshole.” Jim whined, taking another swig from the bottle before handing it to Nyota.

“I don’t know why you were still friends with him,” she paused to drink, making a face. “This is truly disgusting. Anyway, you’re better than that, Jim. You’re better than any of this.”

“I don’t know, Ny. I don’t know where I’m going or…” Making vague gestures with his left hand, he took the bottle with his right and tried to take a five second shot, gagging slightly after swallowing. “I feel like my life is just the bookstore.”

“Kirk, you can’t work retail at a bookstore for the rest of your life. You’re going to go to college, make it big, whatever that means.”

“Whatever that means.”

“What do you plan to do?” Nyota crossed her legs on the bed, shaking her head when he offered her the bottle one more time. “I think I’m going into linguistics.”

“I want to do so many things. I don’t think I’m good enough for any of them, though, I’ll just give up in the end.”

“Is that you or Frank talking?”

“Ny…” Jim warned, closing the bottle and hiding it under her pillow. “Fuck Frank. Sam’s off studying biology and living with his girlfriend and being happy and I just- want to have that, I guess.”

“You can have that, Jim, you just have to find out what that means for you.”

They drifted off into silence after that, but it was comfortable in a way that silence rarely was for Jim. He felt accepted here, in the bedroom of a girl he wasn’t sleeping with, half-drunk off bad liquor and having just switched best friends. It would take time to adjust, but he was comfortable.

After that night, Jim thought a lot about what he wanted to do in life. He thought about the things he liked but couldn’t pursue, about everything he’d repressed, about the world around him and how he could help it become a better place for everyone involved. He’d often talk to Nyota about it in between their shifts at work or at night when they went out, and she seemed to challenge and encourage him at every turn.

That was how, soon after graduating from high school, Jim Kirk walked into a tattoo shop for the first time. He was alone and running on caffeine, feeling a buzz that came from the somewhat impulsive decision to get his tongue pierced. He could almost hear his uncle’s voice berating his decision, but Frank was in the past and this was Jim’s money, Jim’s body, and Jim’s desire to step out of his nerd-casual comfort zone for once.

The atmosphere of the shop was at once inviting and intimidating. The walls of the waiting room and reception were red, with framed art pieces and tattoo flashes hanging everywhere in organized chaos. On either side of the room, brown leather couches offered guests a place to sit and fill out forms while they waited. In the center, the receptionist’s desk was framed by the two curtained doors that led to the back half of the shop. Above the desk hung a Fender American Standard Jaguar Bass, an item Jim knew Nyota would swoon over had she been able to accompany him.

The receptionist was a woman in a sparkling red shirt, her blonde hair tied up in an elaborate vintage updo. Her makeup was bright, blue eyeshadow and false lashes clashing beautifully with lipstick that was as red as her clothes. Her arms and hands were covered in tattoos, brightly colored vines and birds decorating one sleeve while the other showed off baked goods and glittering desserts. Jim wondered briefly how a glitter tattoo could even exist, not knowing what techniques could lead to that effect.

As Jim approached the desk, the receptionist looked up at him and smiled. He could tell from his own work at the bookstore that it was a business-only smile, which helped ease some of the tension from his shoulders. Customer service. That never changes.

“I, uh, I want to get a piercing. With… Bones?” It was awkward to ask for someone who went by such a nickname, but reviews on the internet had assured him the man had the touch of an angel. He could only hope that his trust in those faceless strangers online was not misplaced.

“Sure,” the woman replied, reaching for a stack of papers and handing him a form from it. She rummaged around for a pen and handed that over as well, motioning to the couch. “Fill that out in as much detail as you can, then bring it back to me.”

“Right. Of course. Thanks.” Jim clicked the end of the pen nervously as he walked towards the couch to the right side of the desk, unsure what all the form would ask for. As he sat and read through it, his reassurance that this shop was reputable grew. They asked for not only his age and contact information, but medical information and emergency contacts as well. While he was unsure what they could do with such data, it was nice that they had it in case something went horribly wrong.

Looking down at the form, Jim took a moment to center himself before deciding this was truly going to happen. He clicked the pen again and started filling out the blank spaces, taking his time as his left leg bounced excitedly on his heel.

Fifteen minutes later, he stood and returned to the desk, handing the form and pen back to the receptionist with a quick _here, thanks_. There was a long silence as the woman read through all his information, then she clicked her tongue and nodded.

“ID, please.”

“One second,” Jim answered, already reaching for his pocket. He pulled out his wallet and rummaged through it, making a mental note to throw out some of the receipts he had gathered in there because things were starting to look messy. Finally producing his ID, he handed it over and watched as she compared the data on the document to the paper form he had turned in. Satisfied, she returned the ID to him and smiled once more.

“You can wait on the couch, I’ll make sure he prepares to pierce you. Tongue piercing, correct?”

“Yes. Thank you again.”

Jim stepped back as she stood up, already making his way towards the couch when she pulled back the curtains on the left side of the desk and called back there.

_“Len, a kid’s here to get his tongue pierced.”_ That was as much as he could hear before she disappeared behind the curtains, her voice now muffled by the other room.

Jim closed his eyes as he sat back down, tapping his fingers against the arm of the couch. He then pulled out his phone, scrolling mindlessly before opening a window to text Nyota. _Doing it!!_ , he typed, briefly wondering if there was reason to include a whiny complaint about the pain to come just to annoy his friend. After a few seconds, he deleted the message without sending it. Whatever he typed wouldn’t be seen until Nyota’s break, he knew, so it wasn’t like a conversation could distract him from the fact a needle would soon go through his tongue.

Finally, he settled for _actually gettin’ pierced, told you I wouldn’t back out of it_. Pressing the button to darken the screen, he returned his phone to his pocket. With only the quiet post-punk music playing in the background, the wait to be called seemed like an eternity. Jim used the time to look at each individual piece of art on the walls, only looking away from those when the lady at the desk returned to her post.

He was reaching for his phone once more when the left curtain opened and a young man with dark hair peeked through, looking straight at him. He wore a black shirt, black ripped jeans and combat boots. Just like the receptionist, he was covered in tattoos that went from his neck all the way down his arms. His ears were pierced several times and the first hole was slightly stretched. Jim thought his modifications made him appear somewhat older than he was, because there was no way someone under thirty had all that work done. Bones, however, looked no older than twenty-five.

“James, right? Come on in.” The man’s voice made Jim straighten up, taking a second to process the words before nodding and standing. He wiped the sweat from his palms on the side of his pants and walked over to the curtain, which Bones held open for him to pass under.

The back room was decorated far differently than the main area of the shop. Two of the walls were still red, but one accent wall was black and had a hauntingly beautiful collection of framed skeletons on the wall, including some bats with their wings spread. Spanning the left corner of the room was a steel table with an autoclave on it and several pieces of equipment set out, including needle sets and gloves and what looked like folded-up white scrubs. There was one artist’s chair near the table and, on the other side, what looked like a massage bed covered in plastic. Behind the table was a long side-to-side mirror that let Jim see his own nervousness reflected clearly. It all smelled like antiseptic.

“Go ahead and sit, kid, I’m just gonna finish prepping.” Once again, it was Bones’ voice that snapped Jim out of staring and made him move, this time to sit on the chair and lean back. He glanced down towards the table and focused on the needles, wondering if he should give up and walk out after all. _No_.

To his surprise, Bones did not just slip on gloves and reach for the needles. Instead, he put on a full scrub shirt, a medical mask, and then finally the gloves. Next, he reached for a purple marker and a pair of pincers, settling in front of Jim.

“Okay. I’m going to put a dot where the piercing is going, then you’ll check it out. If you like it, we move on. Any questions?”

“Uhm, no.” Jim licked his lips. “Actually, yes. Do I just stick my tongue out?”

Bones laughed at him the moment he said it, and Jim knew it was a silly question. He could feel his cheeks burning at the fact his inexperience with body modifications was showing through.

“Sure, kid. Mouth open, tongue out, try not to drool on me.” Bones gave him a smile now, one that reminded him of Nyota’s smiles after she scolded him for being caught reading between bookshelves at work.

Jim swallowed back his saliva and opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out and trying to glance at the mirror to see if he looked silly. Almost immediately, a gloved hand came forward and lifted his tongue, then the marker was open and he felt the slight taste of the ink as the marker came down on the top of his tongue. A second later, the hand was gone.

“What’cha think?”

Turning towards the mirror, Jim focused on the purple dot now in the center of his tongue. It didn’t look like it was off to one side or the other and he could easily picture a small silver ball there instead of the marker stain. Not knowing if he could close his mouth and talk, he just nodded with his tongue hanging out, turning back towards Bones.

“Okay. I’m going to get the tip of your tongue with the pincers now so I can hold it straight, so don’t freak out at the pressure. It’ll be over faster than you think.”

Before doing that, Bones reached out and took a closed needle packet from the table, opening it and setting it aside. He then leaned over Jim and did as he said, pressing his tongue between the pincers and pulling it forward. Taking the needle, he moved even closer to ensure that everything was angled right.

“On three. One… two…” and the needle went through Jim’s tongue. His first instinct was to swallow at the pain, but he knew that would make things much, much worse, so he forced his tongue to remain still and taut in the pincers’ grasp. “Sorry, kid. It’s easier this way. Now I just have to get the piercing through the catheter and you’re good.”

Bones spoke of this as if the worst were over. Jim soon found, though, that the worst part was when the jewelry was going in, and a white pain flashed in his mind. He used every ounce of self-control to keep himself absolutely still in the chair, feeling a slight wetness welling up in his eyes. He took a deep breath and held it, releasing it as he felt Bones screwing in the top ball of the jewelry. There was a small metallic sound as the pincers squeezed down harder, and then the pressure was over and his tongue was free, although Jim was still hesitant to put it back in his mouth.

After another deep breath, he looked in the mirror once more. His tongue was dry from hanging out so long, but it looked good with the piercing. There was still a little purple stain beside the jewelry, but he imagined that was safe and would wear out with time. Considering that he would look like a fool if he sat like that any longer, he finally recalled his tongue to its rightful place and swallowed around it. The sensation was foreign.

“Thanks.” He said, testing the words. There was definitely a slight lisp there, and it would likely get worse with the swelling, but he wouldn’t complain. In the end, things had gone smoothly and Bones was indeed a good, thorough professional. “I know it’s a bit awkward because it was my first but-“

“Hey, no need to explain yourself. We deal with plenty of first-time piercings around here. You did great.” Bones rolled his neck, then set about removing his gloves and discarding them. “You can go ahead and pay out in front with Jan, she’ll give you the booklet. If you need the jewelry changed, come back in four to six weeks.”

“Right. Thanks.” Jim stood from the chair, thinking to himself that he had already thanked the man and was only sounding more and more like someone who wasn’t supposed to be there. “I’ll see you then.”

He waved awkwardly as Bones removed his mask, watching the man arch an eyebrow at the strange behavior before slipping through the curtains towards the reception. He reached for his wallet as he walked, pulling out the amount in cash and leaning over the desk to see the woman – Jan – going through someone’s art portfolio.

“Here’s for the piercing.” Jim handed her the money, watching her count it as he returned his wallet to his pocket. When she opened the register and put it away, smiling that customer service smile at him, he knew he hadn’t miscounted.

“Thank you for coming to our shop. Here’s a booklet detailing how to keep your piercing clean and healthy. Come back in the future.”

Jim was almost sad to leave the shop after spending so much of the afternoon there, pushing his way out of the door booklet in hand and listening as the sound shifted from a faint Siouxie and the Banshees into the bustle of San Francisco daytime life. He thought of going by his workplace just to show Nyota the piercing, but then decided she would be more impressed and disgusted if he waited for the swelling to get underway and presented it at work the next day. What are friends for, anyway?

As he walked down the street, he felt himself grow thirsty and settled on the first of many bad decisions he would make over the following days. Although he knew not to consume dairy products with a fresh piercing, he headed towards the nearest Starbucks and ordered himself a venti mocha Frappuccino, slowly sipping on it all the way home. It was satisfying and it numbed his tongue.

Thankfully, he knew well enough to prevent an infection and set about cleaning his mouth thoroughly after every time he ate or drank. That did not stop him from biting his tongue or eating ice cream, but it helped his case a little when it came to texting Nyota all about his day.

_One more thing_ , he added after a string of texts he sent her that night.

_What?_

_The piercer dude was kind of hot._

_Oh my god, Jim, go to sleep. You have work in the morning._

_Just saying. It’s not like I hit on him._

_You hit on everything._

_Lies. I’m going to sleep now, I have work in the morning._

Sighing, Jim set his phone aside and rolled over in bed, thinking back to his interaction with Bones. He definitely hadn’t hit on the man, he had hardly been able to say a word without embarrassing himself. Perhaps he could try to act cool and collected when it came time to change the jewelry, the man surely wouldn’t remember his face after an entire month.

One way or the other, he had done it. He had done something solely for himself and it was an amazing feeling, it felt like the start of a new chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim makes some decisions about his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to figure out how the American college system works but it's a nightmare for someone who only has the internet. Sorry if I get anything wrong.

Jim didn’t think about Bones much over the next month, focusing instead on avoiding all of Nyota’s questions about what he was going to do about college. He wasn’t hiding from the possibility of attending, but he would rather keep his options quiet while he decided on a path. He had considered everything from the nearest college to an exchange program in Europe, but he knew that if he told her that much, she might withdraw to prevent herself from being too heartbroken at losing her best friend to the world.

He also dragged her shopping with him, using part of his salary to buy himself clothes that weren’t blue jeans and sweaters. He started with some black shirts with different designs on them, some with planets and stars and others with animals laid in high contrast, then moved on to some black jeans to match the look he was going for. Finally, he thought back to the clothes Bones had been wearing on the day he was pierced and decided it would do well to buy a pair of combat boots of his own. He splurged on those, buying them to last through intense wear.

In the end, he had a new wardrobe and Nyota’s approval, although she teased him for trying to be a ‘bad boy’ again. He brushed her off and said she was relying on stereotypes, then topped his look off with some gel to make the tips of his hair spiky.

That was how he dressed on the day he went to get his jewelry changed, now far more confident and no longer pulsing with the energy of an impulse decision. He walked into the shop and smiled at the receptionist, who returned the smile with the same professionalism as she had last time.

It was only when he was called to the back of the shop by Bones, who now wore a button-down black shirt along with his usual pants and boots, that Jim realized he wasn’t overstating things when he talked to Nyota the night of the piercing. The man was not Jim’s type, what with being covered in tattoos, but he was _kind of_ hot. Jim paid more attention to him this time, recognizing some classic art pieces in the man’s sleeves and admiring his geometric tattoos.

“No sign of infection here,” Bones said at one point, gloved fingers in Jim’s mouth. “Seems you took good care of it. What did you eat during the first week?”

“To be honest,” Jim replied with as much grace as he could, considering there was a hand probing his tongue, “mostly ice-cream.”

“Goddamn, kid, that could go south fast. You’re just lucky, then.” Bones frowned and Jim had to admit there was something particularly attractive about that look on him. “At least you must have cleaned up well because your tongue hasn’t rotted in your mouth just yet.”

“Gross.”

“It’s what you’d expect from such irresponsibility.”

“Hey, I’m a paying client,” Jim protested, feeling somewhat offended by the roughness. “Shouldn’t you be nice to me?”

“Shouldn’t you take care of yourself? Honestly. Now be quiet and let me change this.” Bones reached for the new jewelry, already sterilized, and removed one of the balls from it. He then leaned back over Jim and removed his present jewelry, slipping the new one in and screwing it on. “There you go.”

Jim closed his mouth and rolled his tongue around, feeling the new jewelry and relaxing. It felt secure and it seemed Bones wasn’t holding his ice-cream eating against him that badly.

“Right. Sorry about the ice-cream, I’ll take better care of my next one.” Jim said it only to be nice, but he knew somewhere in his heart that this was addictive and he would come back for more. There was nothing like waking up in the morning and sticking his tongue out in front of the mirror or even just playing with the jewelry.

“You’d better. Off you go, now.” Bones waved him away, but his face had softened in a way that made Jim feel approved of, so he walked out a little taller.

*****

Jim was happy to find the house empty when he returned from the tattoo shop, slipping his shoes off and settling down in bed with his laptop to watch the Lizzie Bennet Diaries for the third time. It was always satisfying to marathon the series, particularly since it was the only version of the story that gave Lydia closure – and Jim felt he needed that at this point in his life.

He was halfway through _the bar was full of swimmers, all with very nice drinking habits_ when his phone vibrated. Never one to let notifications go unchecked, he immediately reached for it and was glad to find a text from Nyota asking if they were going out.

_Come over instead_ , he texted back, knowing it would cause a shouting match should Frank catch them hanging out. It wasn’t something he sought to provoke, but the arguments over whether or not he was entirely useless were starting to weigh on him.

Jim continued to watch until the doorbell rang, at which point he paused the video without closing the tab to resume watching later. He made his way down to the door and opened it widely, grinning when he saw the pizza box Nyota was carrying.

“I figured I’d pick up some dinner for us on the way out. Your fridge is usually just beer, anyway,” she explained, walking past him into the living room and towards the stairs, already used to simply making her way towards his room. “I got half cheese, half pepperoni.”

“Oh, awesome. Go on ahead, I’ll bring paper towels,” said Jim, rushing towards the kitchen and grabbing the whole roll of paper towels from the counter. He followed Nyota up the stairs, glad to see she had already made herself comfortable on the bed and opened the box to let the wonderful aroma of pizza fill the room.

“You’re watching Lizzie again. Don’t you get tired of it?” Nyota leaned over and took a paper towel, then pulled apart a piece of the cheese pizza and started to eat.

“Pride and Prejudice is a classic.”

“The Lord of the Rings is a classic, you don’t see me learning Quenya.”

“The simple fact that you know the names of the individual languages in that franchise makes you a nerd, Ny.” Jim laughed and reached for a slice of pepperoni, letting out an indecent moan as he took his first bite. “God, I feel like I’ve eaten nothing but noodles for days now.”

“Probably because you haven’t. How was the piercer today?”

“Rude,” Jim replied, mouth full. “He kept reprimanding me for eating ice-cream.”

“Mm,” Nyota hummed, not even arguing the point that Jim was in the wrong here. She knew it would get them nowhere. “I thought he was hot.”

“No, no, he is.” Jim finally swallowed, giving himself room to speak as much as he wanted to. “Not my type, but I can see why people would swoon over him. Nice jawline. A little muscle, you know, the kind of guy who works out for his health and not to bulk up. He’s just… not very good at bedside manner.”

“Jim, he’s a piercer, not a doctor. Those guys are tough and mean sometimes, you have to learn to live with it if you’re really going to get into the scene.”

“Scene? I’m not getting into any scene, I’m just… switching up my style a bit. Becoming cooler.” Jim finished his piece of pizza, licking his fingers to clean off the extra sauce and corn flour.

“Just be careful, okay?” Nyota smiled tentatively, as if there were something saddening holding her back from offering more. “I don’t want you to get sidetracked.”

“Sidetracked from nothing, that’d be a feat.”

“Jim. None of this talk, just eat your pizza.”

“Okay.” Jim sighed and took a second slice, allowing Nyota to switch the subject to what they could watch together because she was _not_ marathoning Lizzie Bennet a second time.

*****

It had been an accident, really. Jim was in his bedroom, minding his own business and reading when a drunk Frank burst through the door and demanded to know why there was an extra charge on his credit card, one he did not remember being responsible for. Jim had explained, as calmly as he could, that he had not taken Frank’s credit card and had no desire to do so, he had his own money and was doing a good job of looking after himself.

Frank insisted, though, and Jim stood up to push him out of the room. He hadn’t expected Frank to charge at him, trying to kick him in the stomach. The best thing Jim could do then was fall, letting himself hit the bed back-first and watching his uncle flail above him. With the momentum he gained by taking Frank off balance, he kicked the larger man off him and then heard the _thud_.

Frank’s head had slammed right into the corner of his desk, and now he lay motionless on the floor.

Jim panicked. He hated the man, of course, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see him dead. Only very miserable and very far away, if life would allow it. Swallowing thickly, he pulled out his phone and called Nyota.

“Hey. Jim?” There was a pause where she expected him to speak, but all he could do was breathe heavily into the speaker, eyes still glued on Frank. “Jim, is everything alright? What’s going on? Do you need me to come over?”

“Ny,” he tried, sitting up slowly. He was still disoriented from his own fall onto the bed, but that was the least of his worries. “Ny, I think I killed Frank.”

“What?” Jim winced at her raised voice, physically shying away from the phone. “Okay, no. Calm down and tell me what happened. What did he do?”

“He was drunk, he- he came into my room and started yelling accusations and I didn’t do anything, he said I stole his money but I didn’t, I didn’t do it. I tried to push him out and he attacked me and I… I made him hit his head on the desk and now he’s _dead_.”

“Sugar, breathe. Are you sure he’s dead? Did you check his pulse?”

Jim shook his head, then remembered she couldn’t possibly see him and forced out a verbal response, a simple _no_ that came out just as he slid from his bed onto the floor where Frank was lying unconscious.

“Okay, Jim, check his pulse. You know how to do it, right? Tell me if you feel anything.”

“I- yeah.” Jim hesitated for a moment as he knelt beside his uncle’s body, then reached out and pressed two fingers to his neck. For a moment he thought he was right and this was going to send him to jail to live out the life Frank had always pictured for him, but then he felt the strong flow of blood beneath his fingers and sighed in relief. “Shit, he’s alive. He’s alive. God, he’s going to kill me.”

“That’s good. It’s a good thing. Try to lay him out so he can breathe, on his side so he won’t choke if he vomits.”

At this point, Nyota’s calm voice was the only thing getting Jim through the panic of what was to come. Frank was going to beat him to a pulp when he woke up and Jim was not looking forward to that. He set the phone down and put it on speaker, then set about moving Frank onto his side and away from the desk.

“Done. I, ah, should I check for blood? On his head?”

“That’s a good idea. Jim, I want you to pack a bag and come over. My parents won’t mind if you spend the night, and I don’t want you there when Frank wakes up. Maybe he’ll be better tomorrow.”

“Or he’ll have more time to simmer,” Jim mumbled, but he was almost sure Nyota didn’t hear that. He ran his fingers through Frank’s hair over the point of impact and was relieved to see no blood come off on them. Rolling his shoulders back, he tried to release some of the tension he had built up as he grabbed his phone from the floor and stood. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“Don’t forget your uniform.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Jim hung up before she could give him any further instructions, looking around his room. There was a chance that leaving Frank inside with the door open was a mistake, Jim could very well return to find all his belongings trashed, but he would have to take the risk. Grabbing his knapsack, he packed overnight clothes, his work uniform and a toothbrush, then headed out the door.

He was glad that Nyota’s parents had stopped asking questions after the day he showed up at their doorstep with split lip and muddied clothes. Now he could simply decide to spend time there and they would welcome him, which made him suspect that Nyota had told on his situation. At times like these, he didn’t mind. So long as they didn’t interfere in his personal affairs, they could know about Frank.

Even though he was in a safe space, Jim didn’t sleep well that night. He was worried all through the day at work, and his stomach sank when he said goodbye to Nyota as their shift came to a close. He walked the long way home, already preparing himself physically and mentally for the fight that was to come.

He clicked his tongue as he walked and then rubbed the ball of his piercing against the roof of his mouth, focusing on the sensation. It was proof he could fend for himself now. He didn’t need Frank for anything except housing, and that could change if he only got into college. If he only applied. If he only survived the beating he was about to endure.

When Jim got to the front door, he waited a minute before slowly turning the door handle, stepping inside silently and sneaking past the living room. He made it to his room in silence, setting his things down by the bed and listening intently for anything that might surprise him. Either Frank was asleep or he was out.

That only delayed the inevitable. Jim sat on the bed and removed his shoes, then pulled out his laptop and began to look through the list he’d compiled of colleges he would like to attend and degrees he might like to obtain. The one that spoke the most to him was the closest to home, a bachelor’s degree in Environmental Studies from the University of San Francisco. He could also sign up for a minor in astrophysics there and still be close to Nyota, who would soon start the Foreign Languages and Linguistics course at the same university.

He had to factor in that he would be entering a year late, but it was better than doing nothing at all and it would get him out of Frank’s house. Making up his mind, he deleted the other options from the list and decided he would pursue this one to the best of his ability.

*****

Frank had never confronted Jim about their altercation in the bedroom, but every time they were in the same room Jim expected a fight to break out. He avoided his uncle to the best of his ability, using every free moment of his day to study for the college entrance exams without telling anyone his plans. Thankfully Nyota was far too worried studying in advance for her upcoming college classes to pester him about his sudden good behavior, although he knew she sensed something was off.

Finally, one day after working the morning shift at the bookstore, he decided he had enough of grinding without any fun. His impulses were once again running wild and there was too much adrenaline to control, so he allowed himself to be led instinctively towards the Sputnik tattoo shop. Stepping inside, an instant wave of peace washed over him and he heard Robert Smith singing in the background, it almost made him want to dance.

Jim was happy to see the woman at the reception was still the same. Her hair was different now, teased up in the style of the 1980s and held together with a lot of hairspray. She wore a dark green dress and equally green eyeshadow, clicking her nails against the desk in between pages of a zine.

“Hi, good afternoon.” Jim smiled brightly at her, watching her face instantly change into customer service mode as she set the zine aside and focused her attention on him. “I’m here for Bones.”

“Of course. Here’s your form.” She handed him the paper and pen just as she had the first time, waiting for him to walk away before resuming her reading.

“Thank you.” Jim took the form to one of the couches and filled out every blank space except for one: which piercing he wanted. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. He briefly considered getting one on his nose, but that was too big a target for people’s fists. His mouth had the same problem, but it felt somewhat underwhelming to ask for an ear piercing after having his tongue done. Humming to himself, he reached one hand up and pinched his right eyebrow between his thumb and forefinger. After a moment of deliberation, he wrote it down.

“Here you go,” he said as he handed back the form, already reaching for his wallet and producing his ID before she could ask for it. Once again, she read through everything on the file before returning his document with a pleasant smile.

“I’ll go talk to Len.”

Standing, she made her way to the left curtain and disappeared behind it. Jim figured it would take some time, so he returned to the couch and tried to stop his leg from bouncing and betraying his energy level. Instead, he focused on the music and hummed quietly along to the songs as they came on.

When the woman returned to her seat, Jim briefly considered talking her. Perhaps asking about what she was reading or whether she was the one to pick the music. In the end, he decided it was better to leave her be and not make an ass of himself, as he knew he would at this point in the day.

At least he could make a better impression on the piercer, who seemed more interested in social engagement when he finally called Jim’s name. His studio space hadn’t changed much and he was still incredibly meticulous about cleanliness, but he seemed more talkative.

“Come on in, sit down. Sorry ‘bout making you wait so long, I just want to provide a good experience for everyone here.” He paused then, looking over Jim with an expression of confused familiarity. “Have I done any work on you?”

“Uhm. Yeah, a few months back you pierced my tongue.” Jim stuck his tongue out for a moment, showing off the jewel before remembering his manners. “You also gave me an earful for-“

“Ice-cream, right. I remember you, kid. Jan gave me a hard time for that, said everyone eats ice-cream after getting their tongue pierced, but that hardly makes it acceptable.”

“If everyone does it, it can’t be that bad,” Jim argued, sitting on the chair and watching as Bones got into his scrub shirt. “I think you’re a little paranoid.”

“I’m your piercer. You want me to be paranoid, trust me.” Bones frowned at him as he finished pulling the top on, then sighed softly before pulling his mask on. “At least you didn’t swallow the ball and choke to death on the base or anything. If I didn’t do good work you wouldn’t be back here in just a few months.”

“Wait – that can happen?”

“Rarely. I don’t know of anyone who’s choked to death but I know people who lost their piercings by swallowing them, at least, so that’s something you can look forward to if it ever comes unscrewed.”

“Shouldn’t you, er, encourage me to get these?”

“Not really. You’ve made up your mind by the time you’re back here, I’m just honest.” Bones shrugged as he spoke, placing a hand on Jim’s shoulder and firmly pushing him back against the chair. Jim allowed himself to lie back, looking up at the light now, hearing metal and plastic being moved by his side. A second later, Bones’ face was over his and the chair was being reclined. “Okay, kid, what side?”

“Oh, shit. Uh. Left.”

“You’re the impulsive type, huh? Should have known. You should get a proper job before filling your face with holes.”

“Still left.”

“I’m getting to it.” Marker in hand, Bones leaned over him and gently pinched the skin of his eyebrow, then made two small dots – one above the growing hairs, one below. “Take a look.”

Jim shifted onto his side on the chair, raising his head to look in the mirror. Now that he stopped to consider the pain, he nearly called it off, but his pride won out and he lay back down.

“Looks good.”

“Hm,” Bones hummed, reaching for his pincers and a clean needle. He fixed the pincers on Jim’s eyebrow and, just as Jim closed his eyes, removed the needle from its packet. “One. Two. Done.”

“Aah- ouch, that one was bad.” Jim exhaled slowly through his mouth, keeping his face mostly still. He could feel Bones stop everything for a moment to allow his composure to return, then resume his work as if nothing were out of the ordinary – probably because to him, pain was just another part of work.

In a series of quick motions, the jewelry was inserted and the needle and catheter were out, leaving Jim dizzy on the chair that was finally clear of Bones leaning over or near him.

“Do you need a cup of water or something?” He heard Bones ask, probably when he took too long to get up after the piercing was done. Shaking his head, he felt the foreign object move with him and was pleasantly surprised that that alone did not hurt.

“No, I’m good.”

“Are you sure? You look a little pale in the face.”

“Hey, it hurts. I just need a moment to get back on my feet.”

“Fine, sorry. I’m used to people complaining, not nearly passing out on me. Except for this one girl who came in the other day – ah, you won’t care.”

“No, no, tell me.” Jim looked up expectantly, smiling. “Please tell me. I love this kind of story.”

“Well, this girl came in the other day.” Bones stepped back as he talked, removing his mask and gloves and setting about removing his scrub top, already discarding them properly. “She says she wants to fix a mistake she made a few months ago, an upper ear piercing going right through the cartilage. Common enough. I ask Jan to send her in only to see a bulge where she wants the hole and an awful lot of jagged scar tissue when I touch it, so I ask her where she did it the first time and she names another shop. I call bullshit on that and she tells me – this girl is like fifteen, mind you – she did it at home with a thumb tack.”

“What, really?” Jim asked, horrified. He could picture his high school self making some bad decisions, but that was one even he couldn’t top. “Gross.”

“I told her not to put another hole there but she probably went somewhere else and got it done anyway, I don’t want my name associated with that girl.”

“That definitely makes the clean needle seem less painful in comparison, thank you.” Jim smiled as he stood, finally centered, and extended a hand towards the piercer. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

“You know where to find me, kid, just let that hole heal before you decide to get another one. On your way out, tell Janice to stop reading and do her job, would you?”

“If you mean the lady at the desk, I don’t think I have the courage to say anything of the sort to her.”

“Smart kid. Damn.” Bones rolled his shoulders and sighed, cracking his knuckles. “I’ll deal with it myself.”

“Right. Bye, then.” Jim slipped out awkwardly, then waved at the woman on the desk, who didn’t even bother looking up from her reading to acknowledge him this time. He imagined he should have felt more unwelcome than he did, given the cold treatment, but that seemed to suit the shop’s business forward personality. Either that or he was an excitable pre-college kid getting hyped on body modifications before serious life decisions took their toll on his emotional state.

As the high from his impulsiveness wore down, Jim found himself wondering who even still printed or read zines and whether college would be a good place to find out about those things, because it was the kind of subculture content he was definitely interested in. Arriving home, he decided to forego his studies for the day and look up cultural events that might interest the kind of people whose attention he wanted to attract.

It was dark outside when his phone rang – a video call from Nyota. He answered it and grinned widely, not saying anything until he saw her laugh.

“Isn’t it cool?”

“Jim, it’s a bit… old-fashioned, I think. You look like you belong in front of a mall a decade ago.”

“Oh, come on, Ny. I’ll keep my hair nice and spiky, add some chains to my pants and it’ll look awesome.”

“Sure, Jim. It’ll be great.” She laughed as she said it, which reassured him she was being honest enough, then settled into a content smile. “You’re still up to help me move, right?”

“Of course. I’ll carry some boxes for you.”

“You could at least pretend you’ll feel bad for me when I’m waist-deep in papers, Jim. I can’t believe what I’m getting into, what if I fail?”

“Nyota, please. You speak… how many languages again? And you’re no slouch on other subjects, you’ll blow them away. And if you ever need to get out and drink something to destress I’m one call away, even if you’ll be living on the other side of town. I can always make time for you.”

“Right. Right. Speaking of that, some freshmen are organizing a meetup at the library near campus and I’m thinking of going, do you think you could cover my shift next Friday?”

“Sure, I’ll talk to management. Don’t do drugs.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m exhausted today, Ny. I’ll see you at work tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah. Put some ice on your head so it doesn’t swell up to the size of a cantaloupe.”

“Will do.” Jim smiled and waved at the camera, then shut off his phone. Not for the first time, he wondered if it was dishonest of him to keep his plans from his best friend when she shared everything with him, but then his insecurities flared up and reminded him of the odds that every plan he had would go horribly wrong. It was better to keep them secret until he had some kind of physical confirmation that he could go through with them.

Closing his laptop, he shuffled down on the bed and rested his head on his pillow, reaching up to turn off the lights. He went to sleep thinking of his uncertain future.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Jim could hardly believe it was done. June had come and so had his exams, which he had passed with flying colors. Colleges would receive his grades and know he was a good candidate for their classes, which meant he could now write his essay and send in his application. There was a new confidence growing in him, the knowledge that he could get into the exact class he wanted where he wanted.

Reaching for his phone, he opened up his text window with Nyota and prepared to send her the good news when he thought it might be better in person. In person and with his application accepted so she could see he was going to the same school as her. It would be a great surprise, of course, and he’d be able to settle her growing worry about leaving him alone with Frank now that her home would no longer be a safe haven.

Helping her move into her dormitory came naturally enough. They chatted and joked around as they carried in box after box of personal items and books, then he settled on the bed as she set up her desk and hung up a calendar. What was less natural was the start of her classes and the end of her work days at the bookstore – now that she moved halfway across town, she had no reason to hold that job.

Jim had expected things to change, but the loneliness he felt at work made the days drag by slowly. He often pulled out his phone when no client could see him, thinking about texting her before remembering that his work hours were Nyota’s class hours. Left with nothing else to do, he tried to make friends with his coworkers and even went out to drink with them a few times, thankful they had at least one coworker who could legally procure booze.

It wasn’t as if Nyota had dropped off the edge of the earth, though. They texted back and forth every day, called each other on some nights, and met up on weekends when Jim was free during the day. He was happy to learn she was more successful than he was in making new friends, and that she got along well with her roommate.

Gaila was a nice girl, if a bit shameless. Jim met her when he visited Nyota’s dorm on a Saturday. They had been talking on her bed when Gaila walked in and, after a quick greeting, proceeded to change clothes right there. Jim looked away out of respect, which got him called _cute_ by the other girl.

She seemed to take a liking to him, because every visit after that saw him greeted with flirtatious innuendos and very forward touches. Nyota assures him all the teasing is friendly and, while Gaila would probably not object to making out with him, she mostly did it to illicit a reaction.

Jim found he didn’t mind all the teasing after the first few times, settling into an easy flirtatious back-and-forth with Gaila whenever they were together. By late autumn, he already considered her a friend and she joined him and Nyota on their outings whenever possible.

That’s why, when December rolled around, he made sure both girls would be free before setting up a meeting at a coffee shop. He arrived early and got them a table, setting the envelope he’d brought down next to him on the padded bench while he waited.

At exactly four in the afternoon, Nyota and Gaila walked through the door. The redhead was the first to spot him, smiling widely and pulling her roommate along by the arm. She gave Jim a peck on the cheek before settling down across from him.

“Hey, glad you two could make it,” Jim greeted, smiling nervously as he touched the envelope with his right hand. Nyota, now sat beside Gaila, would either love this surprise or hate that he kept it from her. Perhaps even both.

“What are you up to, Jim?” Nyota arched a delicate eyebrow, setting her joined hands on the table as she watched him.

“I know I said I had a surprise, and I do. It’s, uh, this.” Jim decided waiting would do more harm than good, so he placed the envelope on the table and slid it towards the girls, Gaila leaning over Nyota’s shoulder to look at it closely.

Nyota held the envelope in her hands, reading the information on the outside with a cool expression. She looked between Jim and the paper before breaking the seal and pulling out the letter. She skimmed over the writing, face impassive, not looking up.

Gaila, who was reading along with her, clapped her hands together loudly and smiled, looking at Jim with wide eyes. “You got in! Oh, that’s great!”

“Yeah. Uhm. Ny?” Jim laughed nervously, rubbing his hands together.

“I can’t believe you kept this from me, Jim.” Nyota shook her head, finally meeting his eyes. After a moment, she smiled softly and reached across the table to hold his hand. “This is wonderful news. It’s about time you got out of that house.”

Jim let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, squeezing her hand and nodding. It was still a lot, thinking he’d finally be rid of Frank and the trappings of his current life.

“I wanted to surprise you. You’ve always believed in me and… I guess that’s what I needed to do this. Frank doesn’t know, he won’t know until I’m ready to move out. He still thinks I’m good for nothing.”

“You’ll show him,” Gaila put her hand over their joined ones, nodding encouragingly.

“Oh, Jim. That asshole doesn’t know anything. I’m really proud of you for doing this, even though you should have told me. It’s a nice surprise.” Nyota gave his hand an encouraging squeeze before pulling back. “How about we actually order something to celebrate? They’ll kick us out if we just sit here idling.”

“Yeah, of course.” Jim couldn’t keep the smile from his face, feeling warm and confident despite the cold winter air. “I’ll go order, what do you want?”

“Get me a caramel macchiato,” answered Nyota, as she folded Jim’s college acceptance letter and eased it back into the envelope. “Order some donuts for us to share, too.”

“I’ll have a mocha Frappuccino, the biggest size.”

“Right. I’ll be right back.”

Jim slid from his seat and went about ordering their drinks and food, returning to the table with the coffees on a tray in one hand and a plate of donuts in the other. The three of them ate and drank as they slid back into easy conversation, the girls asking him about his plans for college.

He was stuffing the last cream donut in his mouth when Nyota’s expression turned serious and she licked her lower lip, waiting for him to swallow before speaking.

“Jim, I didn’t want to bring this up, but how are you going to pay for this? Your savings from the bookstore are nothing compared to college tuition.”

“Oh,” he licked the sugar from his fingers, then laughed. “I forgot to mention. I was offered a full scholarship. I’ll need a new job closer to campus, but other than that I’m good.”

“Damn, Ny wasn’t joking when she said you were a genius, huh?”

“I wouldn’t-“ Jim started, quickly being interrupted by Nyota.

“He may be thick-headed but he’s the smartest person I know.”

“If you’re not counting yourself,” Jim added, fiddling with the sleeve of his hoodie as he struggled to just accept the compliment. “You speak like, all the languages, don’t forget that.”

“You have to accept that you’re both smart,” said Gaila, licking whipped cream off her straw. “I don’t know how I ended up with two nerds as my best friends but here we are.”

“Maybe because we’re hot nerds,” provided Jim, making all three of them laugh. An idea struck him then, and he pulled out his wallet to check if his fake ID was where it should be. “Gaila, you work tonight, right?”

“Hm, yes, why?”

“I think I’ll finally take you up on the offer to watch the show. How about it, Ny?”

Nyota looked at him for a long moment, then shook her head. “Fine. Because we’re celebrating.”

“I’ll get us drinks, it’ll be great,” Jim assured her, grinning just as widely as Gaila. They made their plans to meet up at the club that night, then paid for the bill and went their separate ways.

Jim took his time getting dressed that night, picking out his best pair of dark-wash jeans, a nice black long-sleeved shirt and his favorite brown leather jacket. He knew he would be cold on the road, but the club would be warm enough to keep him comfortable. Once he was dressed, he pulled out the pomade to fix his hair, admiring the finished look in the mirror.

With Frank home, he couldn’t take the car, so he depended on a bus to get to the club. He checked the route on his phone twice before leaving the house, shivering as the cold wind hit him. He rubbed his hands together and puffed out some warm air onto them, walking quickly to the nearest bus stop.

It didn’t take long for the bus to arrive. Jim found a seat near the back and placed his joined hands between his knees, breathing deeply to try warming himself. He had to admit part of it was nervousness – it was his first time going to a strip club, and he never knew when his fake ID would fail him.

Despite his wandering mind, he counted the stops correctly, checking his phone again before getting off. He walked a few blocks from there, soon coming across the bright sign in front of the club. He texted Nyota that he had arrived before going through the door, getting his ID checked and receiving a plastic card with the club’s logo on it.

His phone vibrated in his hand and he opened Nyota’s text, telling him exactly where she was. He raised his head and looked around despite that, then walked towards the stage on the other side of the club. There he spotted her high ponytail and Gaila’s curls, both girls seated at a table right in front of the small stage.

As he approached, he saw Nyota was wearing a short, long-sleeved black dress that glittered in the club’s flashing lights. Gaila wore a red silk robe that went down to her knees, obscuring whatever her outfit for the night would be. They were talking enthusiastically about something he couldn’t hear over the music even as they came into clear view, the club not even half full so early in the night.

Jim straightened his jacket and rubbed his hands on his thighs before walking up to the table, being greeted by two wide smiles and Gaila getting up from her chair for him to sit.

“I have to be backstage,” she explained when he was about to object. She kissed his cheek and gave Nyota’s hand a squeeze before slipping away.

Jim sat down and smiled at Nyota, who reached over to adjust the collar on his jacket. She gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze before returning her hand to her lap.

“You’re the only one who could drag me into this, Jim.”

“Oh, come on.” He smiled suggestively, looking towards the stage. “Don’t tell me it’s torture for you to look at hot girls all night, Ny. I know you better than that.”

“Watch it, James.” She pinched his thigh, smiling despite it.

“Ouch.” He rubbed the spot she’d targeted, looking over her outfit again. “You wouldn’t have dressed up just for me.”

“Gaila insisted. You know how much she enjoys playing dress-up.”

“Mm-hmm. Is this an ‘oh my god they were roommates’ situation?”

“Jim!” Nyota scolded, glad the club lights were dim enough not to highlight her blush. Judging by the way Jim was laughing, her protest hadn’t done much to dissuade him from the idea she had a crush.

“I won’t tell!” Jim raised his hands defensively, grin wide. “You should ask for a lap dance, though. Make the most of it.”

Nyota shook her head, a breathy laugh escaping her despite her embarrassment.

“Ny, she’d probably love to give you a lap dance. Better you than some greasy old man, hm?” Jim insisted, reaching over to push some strands of hair back from her shoulder to join the ponytail at her back. “I’ll pay. Make it an early birthday present.”

“God, Jim, you’re insufferable.” Nyota sighed, looking at him with fond exasperation. “Fine. Because you won’t shut up if I say no.”

“That’s my girl.”

They settled into silence as the music changed and new dancers took to the stage, dancing on and off the three poles that were carefully spaced apart. It was only when ten-thirty rolled around and Gaila’s performance was approaching that Nyota spoke again.

“Didn’t you promise drinks?”

“Hold my seat.” Jim glanced at the stage again, then stood and made his way towards the bar. He showed his ID to the bartender before ordering a beer for himself and a cosmopolitan for Nyota, weaving his way around patrons as he walked back to the table.

Nyota accepted her drink with a smile, taking a small sip from it. As soon as Jim sat, the music changed and Gaila walked onto the stage, hips swaying along to the beat. She wore a green bedazzled bra and a matching short skirt. From under the skirt came the straps of a garter belt that held up white thigh-high stockings. Her shoes were bright green pumps, the high heels making her legs curve elegantly as she danced.

Jim rubbed his tongue piercing against the roof of his mouth as he watched her grab hold of the pole at the center of the stage, swinging around it before climbing on. He glanced to Nyota and saw her watching intently, mouth just slightly open.

He turned his attention back to Gaila, who hung off the pole by her legs and ran her hands over her body, then curved herself up slowly to grab at the metal with one hand, swinging around as she descended slowly. Once she reached the floor, she rolled her head and cupped her breasts, unclasping her bra and pulling it off to reveal bright green tassels.

It was only when Jim looked down at the table that he noticed he was too distracted to open his beer. He quickly corrected that, taking a long sip before looking back to stage where Gaila was crawling towards them, arching her back and winking directly at them. He couldn’t help a smile at that, feeling a little more at ease with the reminder that this was just an extension of her playful flirtation. It was affecting him, for once, but that was only natural.

Gaila rose when she reached the very edge of the stage, kneeling up and leaning her head back. She rolled her shoulders in a way that the tassels on her chest rotated, earning some cheers from the crowd watching. She ran her hands down her body again, unclasping the side of her skirt and removing it, throwing it at Nyota, who caught it mid-air.

Jim drank more of his beer, watching Nyota as she folded the skirt and placed it on the table before reaching for her own drink. He could tell she was holding herself with more stiffness than usual, almost unable to look away from the stage.

As soon as the number ended and Gaila disappeared backstage, he leaned close to his friend. “Damn, Ny, that’s a whole lotta woman to have a crush on.”

“Jim, please.” Nyota shoved his shoulder, breathing in deeply. “If you mess this up for me, I’ll rip that metal bar right out of your face.”

“Relax. I won’t say a word, I promise.” There were other ways to play matchmaker, of course, but that didn’t need mentioning. “She’ll be working the floor in a few minutes, try to calm down before that.”

“Don’t remind me.” Nyota hid behind her drink, casually watching the new dancer that had taken to the stage, and Jim decided he had better finish his beer in silence.

When Gaila appeared again, she had put her bra back on but there was nothing covering the equally bedazzled green panties she wore. She walked slowly, swaying her hips and stopping to flirt with patrons on the way, but none stopped her for a lap dance. When she reached their table, Jim beckoned her close and leaned in to speak.

“Nyota would like a lap dance,” he said, watching as the girl in question finished her cosmopolitan and set the glass down.

Gaila pulled away from him and smiled slowly, rounding the table and placing a hand on the back of Nyota’s chair. She rolled her hips seductively, then moved in to straddle Nyota’s lap, keeping her hips elevated so they weren’t touching as she danced.

Jim excused himself then, having finished his beer and desperately needing another to distract himself from the fact the environment was affecting him. He took a seat at the bar this time, giving the girls their privacy as he called for another beer.

“If you want something stronger, I’ll buy it for you,” came a familiar voice from beside him. Only then did Jim look at the man occupying the stall to his right, wearing dark blue jeans and a black leather jacket with safety pins along the collar. It took a moment for him to process the face, but then he placed it – it was Bones.

“Oh.” He looked at the man’s tattooed hands, one of them wrapped around a tumbler of whiskey. “I mean – I’d like that,” he said, meeting the man’s eyes and willing away the blush that crept over his cheeks. He was getting hit on by his piercer. How exactly had he thought this man wasn’t his type before? In the club lights, he looked delectable.

Bones ordered another whiskey for himself and the same for Jim, then turned to face him once more, eyes scanning the younger man’s body. “Can I get a name?”

“Ah, Jim.” He licked his lips and rubbed his piercing against the roof of his mouth. “You’re Bones.”

“Huh, no one calls me that outside of work,” the man chuckled. “You did seem familiar. I guess that eyebrow is my work.”

“Yeah.”

“Good to know. You can call me Leonard.”

“Leonard,” Jim tested the sound on his tongue, finding it didn’t feel very natural. He liked _Bones_. “Do you make a habit of picking up people with the most expensive drinks at the bar?”

“I wouldn’t call it a habit. Consider yourself lucky.”

Jim could tell there was an ironic tone to the man’s voice, but he couldn’t help thinking that lucky was the right word. Their drinks arrived and he took a sip, savoring the burn of a drink he could never afford.

“Are you just here for the show?” Bones asked, inclining his head back towards the stage before taking a slow drink.

“Actually, one of the girls is my friend. She’s been inviting me for a few months, but I just got around to coming now.”

“Which one is your friend?”

“The redhead with the green outfit.” Jim smiled, swirling his drink around in the glass. “Met her through another friend, if you really want to know.”

“Oh, Gaila.” Bones nodded in recognition.

“How do you know her?” Jim asked, arching his eyebrows.

“She’s been my client before.”

“But Gaila doesn’t have any piercings,” Jim argued, frowning in confusion.

Bones arched an eyebrow and smirked at him, allowing Jim to process his expression while taking another slow drink.

“Oh.” Jim swallowed, slowly deciphering what that smirk meant as he remembered he hadn’t seen _all_ of Gaila. “ _Oh_.”

Bones laughed, resting his left hand on Jim’s knee. That did nothing to help Jim’s blush, but he didn’t object to the touch, biting the inside of his cheek as their eyes met again.

“You seem pretty innocent for a place like this, Jim.”

“Hey. It’s not like I’m a virgin, I just never considered- that.” Jim swallowed, looking down at Bones’ hand as the man’s thumb caressed the side of his knee. “It must hurt like hell.”

“Some people get off on pain,” Bones replied, shrugging. “You’d be surprised how many people come in asking for that kind of stuff.”

“Huh.” Jim turned back to his drink, allowing the burn of the alcohol to kill his embarrassment. “That’s pretty interesting, but I bet you don’t want to talk about work right now.”

“I don’t mind that much. I like what I do, so I like to talk about it.” Bones drank from his cup, then smiled at Jim in a way that made his heart skip a beat. “What about you?”

“I work at a bookshop. Nothing special, but I enjoy it. I get to read a lot.”

“So, you’re both cute and smart.” Bones gently squeezed Jim’s knee. “How about you finish your drink so we can go somewhere else?”

“Sounds good.” Jim licked his lips, downing the rest of his whiskey as Bones did the same. He set his glass down and stood, extending a hand towards Bones. With interlaced fingers, they walked towards the far wall of the club, where the lights didn’t quite reach.

Reaching the wall, Jim turned around and smiled nervously, glancing between Bones’ eyes and lips. He rested his back against the wall, waiting for the older man to make his move and sighing softly when a tattooed hand came up to caress his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, then felt the gentle touch of warm lips against his own.

Releasing Bones’ hand, Jim wrapped his arms around his neck and returned the kiss, opening his mouth and moving his tongue against Bones’ own. He melted into the kiss, sighing softly into the older man’s mouth as strong hands moved from his hips to his sides and down again.

Jim had no protests as those hands made their way under his shirt, squeezing and caressing the soft skin underneath. He moved one of his own hands into Bones’ hair, running his fingers along his scalp as they moved together. Bones scraped Jim’s bottom lip with his teeth, drawing a quiet moan from him.

They parted for air and Jim opened his eyes for just a moment, closing them again as Bones leaned forward and pressed his lips to Jim’s jawline. His stubble grazed against Jim’s neck, making him lean his head back in invitation. Little breathy gasps and moans escaped him as Bones kissed his neck, mouthing and gently biting at the delicate skin.

Once Jim was sure his legs had turned to jelly, their mouths met again in a passionate kiss, bodies pressing close together. He lost all sense of time, completely focused on how Bones felt against him.

He almost whined when he felt those warm hands move out from under his shirt, Bones stepping away completely. Jim was about to pull him back when he noticed Nyota standing behind the older man, her dress now covered by a long black coat.

“Oh. Ny, hey.”

“Sorry to interrupt your fun, boys, but it’s time for us to go. You have work tomorrow, remember?”

“Shit. Is it that late?” Jim stood up straight then, moving away from the wall and towards his friend. He looked at Bones, rubbing his hands together as he smiled apologetically. “Sorry. I-“

“No worries.” Bones smiled warmly, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “You go on home, don’t worry about me.”

“Okay. Tonight was- great, it was great,” Jim said, rather awkwardly. After a moment of hesitation, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Bones’ lips. “Bye.”

Bones chuckled as Jim pulled away, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Goodbye, Jim.”

Jim nodded, looking at the other man for a long moment before turning around and heading towards the desk near the exit, Nyota following him silently. It was only after they’d paid their tabs that she spoke.

“So… who was tall, dark and handsome over there?”

“That was Bones. The piercer.”

“Oh, so all that about him not being your type…” Nyota arched an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips.

“I think it’s just him. I had almost forgotten what he looked like, but then he showed up today and offered to buy me a drink. Didn’t even remember me, of course.” Jim rubbed his hands against the side of his thighs, looking out into the street. “Fuck.”

“Well, I think if anything will make him remember you it’s making out for hours in the corner of a strip club,” Nyota offered, looking him over. “You seem more frustrated than happy about this.”

“No, no, I mean- fuck, he was good. I just didn’t want to leave. I didn’t even get his number, I doubt he’ll want anything more than what we did, but- I think I want more.”

“Damn, he kissed a crush into you.”

“Ny…” Jim sighed, shaking his head. “I need to sleep this off. Are you parked close?”

“Yes. I’ll be fine from here.” Nyota took one of Jim’s hands, squeezing it gently. “Go home and get some rest. Text me in the morning to let me know how you’re feeling. If you’re still hung up on him, I’m sure we can figure something out.”

“Right. Right.” Jim smiled at her, nodding. He held her hand for a moment longer before pulling away. “Send me a message when you get back to your dorm, just so I know you’re safe.”

“I will. Good night, Jim.”

“Night.” He waved weakly, then turned away and started walking towards the bus stop. He was halfway home when he realized that in his disappointment at being separated from Bones, he had forgotten to ask Nyota about Gaila. He filed that thought away for later.

Arriving home, he snuck in silently and made his way to his bedroom, hanging up his leather jacket and taking off his shoes. He found a green sweater hanging over his chair and put that on for warmth, then slid into bed and pulled the covers up to his neck. He slept thinking of the feeling of Bones pressed against him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains domestic violence.

Jim was woken early by his alarm, swiping the screen on his phone to make the infernal noise stop. He rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed, pushing the covers off to the side. The cold instantly made him feel more alert, and memories of the previous night came flashing back to him. With a quiet groan, he fell back onto the mattress and pulled his phone up close to his face.

There was a message from Nyota, delivered the night before – a simple _home safe_. He thought back to their parting, how he had clearly overreacted to the situation with Bones, and found himself at a loss for words to reply with. He still felt a tightness in his stomach as he pictured Bones, something between longing and loss, but it was no longer overwhelming.

 _I think I freaked out last night_ , he texted Nyota, trying to find a way to put his feelings into a reasonable sentence. He had to understand why he had reacted so strongly – was it the fact he hadn’t expected it, or that Bones had been so gentle, kissing him more like a lover than a stranger?

 _It’s just been a while_ was what he decided on. Jim had been so focused on working and studying that he hadn’t been with anyone in over a year. He was touch-starved and lonely, that was why Bones had made such a strong impression. It made perfect sense.

Satisfied with that explanation, Jim set his phone down by his pillow and stood, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. He looked around his room, then walked over to the closet to pick out clean clothes for the day. Deciding to wear the same jeans and sweater, he simply chose a white long-sleeve shirt and black briefs.

 With it in hand, he made his way to the bathroom and locked the door behind him, hanging the shirt up on one of the towel hooks on the wall. He turned the shower on first, making sure the water was hot before undressing quickly and stepping under the spray, clothes discarded on the floor for the moment.

Despite having rationalized his reaction, Jim couldn’t help that the shower’s enveloping heat made him think of Bones and his firm body, the ghost of his touch lingering on Jim’s torso. With a frustrated groan, Jim decided not to linger in the shower for fear of his thoughts wandering too far. He washed himself quickly, only devoting extra time to getting the pomade out of his hair.

He stepped out of the shower and shivered at the temperature difference, reaching for his towel and drying off as fast as he could. Once he was dry and dressed, he hung up his towel and used his hand to wipe the fog off the mirror, leaning close to fix his hair to one side.

When he returned to his room, the notification light on his phone was blinking green. He ignored it for the moment in favor of fishing a black bomber jacket out of his closet, slipping it on and zipping it closed all the way up to his neck. He then took his favorite black and gray striped scarf, just letting it hang loose around his neck. He pocketed his wallet and then, finally, he picked up his phone to read Nyota’s replies.

_As long as you’re alright. If you need to talk about it, I’m here._

_He’s just a damn good kisser, that’s all. I need to go out more_ , he texted back, walking out of his room and locking the door behind him. He quietly descended the stairs, hoping Frank was still in bed so he wouldn’t have to hear any shit from him. He wasn’t quite so lucky.

“Where the fuck were you last night?” was the first thing he heard upon entering the kitchen. Jim didn’t answer, instead walking past his uncle to get to the refrigerator. It was empty aside from two twelve-packs of beer, a carton of milk and some condiments. Jim grabbed the milk. “Don’t ignore me, you little shit!” Frank’s voice insisted, louder now than before.

“It’s none of your business,” Jim replied, monotone, as he reached into the cupboard to get his breakfast cereal. He set the box of corn flakes and the milk on the counter, reaching for a bowl when a heavy hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back violently, spinning him around so his back was against the counter.

“Don’t talk back to me, Jimmy. I’ve had it with your fucking attitude, as if leeching off me wasn’t enough. This is my fucking house,” Frank’s voice escalated further as he poked Jim hard in the chest with a pointed finger, “you don’t even pay rent here. So either you start respecting my authority or you get the fuck out!”

This close, Jim could smell the alcohol in his uncle’s breath. Leave it to Frank to get drunk before nine in the morning.

“I’m not a kid, Frank. I’ve stayed out of your hair, how about you do the same?” Jim met his gaze head-on, too tired of these repetitive fights to truly care. “I just want to get to work on time.”

“What’s that damn job good for, huh? You should pay up what you owe me for dealing with your shit.” Frank shoved him this time, crowding him against the counter. “At least your brother had the decency to strike out on his own.”

“Don’t you talk about Sam,” Jim growled, reaching behind him for the handle of a familiar drawer. He closed his fingers around it, waiting. Despite his aggressive posture, he could feel his eyes stinging and his vision fogging up, his breathing coming out somewhat ragged. “You have no right.”

“Oh, yeah? What’re you gonna do about it, cry?” Frank fisted the front of Jim’s jacket, not noticing the now open drawer until there was a steak knife against his neck.

“Back. Off.”

“What the fuck?” Releasing Jim’s jacket and stepping back, Frank’s face was a mixture of anger and fear. “You fucking punk, you wouldn’t dare. You live under my fucking roof and now you wanna threaten me?”

“You’re the one who started this, Frank.” Jim didn’t waver, even though he knew he lacked the courage to actually use the knife. He kept the sharp end against Frank’s throat, point slightly pressing into the skin – not enough to break it, but enough to be felt. “Back off.”

“You’re gonna pay for this, you little shit. Don’t think I’m gonna let it slide.” Frank glared daggers at him, but backed away and turned to exit the kitchen.

Jim took a deep breath and put the knife away, realizing his hand was shaking. Aside from defending himself when Frank got physical, he had never gotten aggressive in return, and he had certainly never threatened him outright. Not only that, but the mention of Sam still had him reeling.

He hadn’t thought about his brother in a long time. The memory was far too painful to bring up – Sam packing his things, ignoring Jim’s pleas for him not to leave, saying he couldn’t take it anymore. In hindsight, Jim knew Sam suffered more than he did back then. As the older brother, he took the brunt of Frank’s anger and aggression, mostly to protect Jim from his drunken rage. Up until Sam ran away, Jim had been quiet and well-behaved, too scared to act out. Losing his brother had flipped a switch in him.

“Damn,” he breathed heavily, adjusting his jacket and taking his phone from his pocket. There was just one reply from Nyota, a simple _if you say so_. It took him a moment to even contextualize that, having completely forgotten about Bones and his hang up from the night before.

For a long minute, he debated what he could write to her – how to tell her what he had just done (and almost done). His chest felt heavy and he had lost all appetite, all he needed was his best friend and her voice. Her voice. Without thinking about the time and where she was, he clicked on her contact and then on the green _call_ button. Putting the phone on speaker, he leaned back against the counter and waited anxiously for her to pick up.

Finally, when he was feeling the building panic in this throat, her voice came through.

“Jim?” Nyota sounded worried. She would, of course, because Jim never called her without notice unless something was wrong.

“Ny,” he tried, voice sounding strained, “I fucked up. God, I fucked up.”

“What happened? Does this have to do with what happened yesterday?”

“No- no. It’s Frank.” Against his will, a sob ripped through him. He swallowed a second one, forcing himself to speak. “He was drunk and he started yelling at me, then he brought up Sam and I- I pulled a knife on him.”

“Holy shit, Jim. Is he…?”

“No! I didn’t do anything with it, I just told him to leave me alone.” Jim closed his eyes, counting his breaths to prevent himself from crying. “Why can’t he just leave me alone?” he asked, weaker this time.

“Oh, Jim. He’s trash, but you’ve got one foot out the door. I hate saying this, but you should wait quietly until you move out.” Nyota’s voice was calm, tentative, knowing full-well that telling her friend to simply endure Frank’s abuse was less than ideal. “You can endure another half a year, can’t you?”

“Shit. I don’t know. I don’t- he’s really pissed, he said he’ll get back at me. I’m scared.” He swallowed thickly and set the phone down on the counter, rubbing his palms together. “I don’t have anywhere to go.” For a moment, he thought about Gary. How would he react if Jim asked to stay with him? He’d probably tell him to get fucked, after the way their friendship had ended. Jim didn’t want to ask favors of someone like that.

“You’re going to be okay. Frank’s an asshole and a bully, but he didn’t come after you when you knocked him out. Now that you stood up to him like that, he’ll probably think twice about coming at you again.”

“But what if he does?”

“I don’t know, Jim. I… wish I could help out, but I don’t think you can do anything more than try to avoid him.”

“Ny…” Jim exhaled slowly, bringing one hand up to rub his temple. He remembered the first real beating Frank had given him. Jim had run and locked himself away in his room, only to have his key taken away as soon as he emerged. It took him years to make a new one, and Frank still yelled at him if he locked the door when he was inside. “Okay. It can’t be worse than what I’ve had before.”

“I know it’s bleak, but you’ll get through this. You can always call me when you need to.”

“Shit. You’re supposed to be in class-“

“It’s okay, it’s Russian. I’m ahead of the class and, even if I weren’t, you’re more important,” Nyota soothed him.

“You’re too good to me, Ny.” Jim smiled weakly, chest clearing up as he warmed with affection for his friend. “Thank you.”

“Any time, Jim. Will you be alright now?”

“I think so. I have to get ready for work.”

“Okay. Keep me updated and stay safe. I love you.”

“I know. Love you, too, Ny. Bye.”

Jim pressed the end call button, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He looked at the cereal and milk still on the counter, feeling his stomach churn at the thought of eating anything. Still, he knew he would regret it if he went to work on an empty stomach, so he took a bowl from the cupboard and poured a decent serving of corn flakes into it. He opened the milk and made to pour it into the bowl, stopping himself just in time when he felt the sour smell.

“This is shaping up to be a great day,” he murmured to himself, walking over to the sink and upturning the milk carton over it. Nothing came out at first, then a glob of what looked like yogurt fell out and Jim groaned in disgust. He washed that down the drain, then closed the carton and tossed the whole thing in the trash.

Taking a spoon from the silverware drawer, he resigned himself to eating dry cereal, forcing it down quickly so he wouldn’t be late. After finishing the bowl, he drank a full cup of water to clean out his mouth of the dry flecks.

Frank would be angry one way or the other, so Jim left the dishes unwashed in the sink as he headed out to work, only stopping to slip on his shoes before leaving the house.

Work was uneventful. That was usually a good thing, leaving Jim to sit behind the counter and read to himself, but there was far too much on his mind to allow that kind of focus. He found his thoughts wandering back to his brother, who was realistically either dead or homeless, but Jim liked to think he’d made it somehow.

Against his better judgment, he turned to the PC and opened up a new tab in the browser, typing _George Samuel Kirk_ into the search bar. He stared at the name, hoping against hope that this time Google wouldn’t fail him, and pressed enter.

The first result was, as it always was, a punch to the gut. _Firefighter killed in San Francisco house collapse_ , the headline read. Jim didn’t have to open it to know what the contents were – a picture of his father in front of a fire engine, smiling; a picture of his parents with baby Sam; the text _George Kirk died from the injuries he received when a portion of the brick structure at 149 Mangels Ave. collapsed while he and other crew members were fighting the blaze_.

That was the reason he was stuck with Frank. Because on the day he was born, his father had to be out playing the hero part instead of staying with his family. Jim admired him for that, but he also resented him for the situation he forced on them with his death. Still, that wasn’t what he was looking for.

He combed through the first few pages of the search engine, finding nothing new. No social media with his brother’s name, no articles, no documents. He gave up on page five, where the names were starting to show up separately in the results. With a disappointed sigh, he closed the tab.

Jim knew what he needed now – a distraction. He took up his phone, deciding to finally ask Nyota for details about the previous night.

 _Tell me about Gaila_ , he sent, then opened up a game to play while he waited for a response. Five minutes later, the notification popped up at the top of the screen.

_What about her?_

_You know, the lap dance, your crush, spill the beans._

_The dance was fun, she didn’t let it get awkward. I think she still doesn’t know and I plan to keep it that way._

_You have to tell her_ , he replied immediately. _Gaila’s cool, it won’t bother her even if she doesn’t like you back._

_Jim, we get naked in front of one another. She trusts me._

_You know I’m picturing that now_ , he couldn’t help but write, trying very hard not to picture it. _You’re not breaking her trust._

_You wouldn’t understand._

_Nyota, stop. Do you really think Gaila of all people will panic because you’re into her?_ Jim hoped his disbelief came through in the message, because it was unlike Nyota to think so little of her friend. When no answer came, he wrote another message. _Give it a shot. The worst that could happen is rejection._

_I hate it when you’re reasonable._

The response made Jim chuckle, knowing he’d at least gotten through to her. It was no guarantee she’d act on her feelings, but it was a start. He sent her a heart emoji and went back to his game, having successfully calmed his mind enough.

A few customers came in after his lunch break, but there wasn’t enough movement to keep him from wasting all of his phone battery on pointless games throughout the day. He could easily charge it there, but he was so close to his shift’s end he’d get no more than a few points charge in before leaving.

The prospect of going home dampened his mood again, but he knew he would arrive home at least two hours before Frank finished his own work at the auto shop, so he could barricade himself in his room for the night.

On his walk home, he stopped by the supermarket and picked up fresh milk and two frozen lasagnas to add variety to his diet, which consisted mostly of instant ramen and takeout.

He fixed himself an early dinner, placing the uneaten half of the lasagna in the fridge for dinner the next day, then retreated to his bedroom with a bottle of water to keep him through the night.

Four days passed without incident. Jim was still taking his precautions, avoiding Frank as best he could, but he started to let his guard down after the third day. His uncle hadn’t come banging on his locked door as he usually did, demanding him to open it so he’d _get what was coming to him_ , so Jim thought that perhaps he’d forgotten their interaction thanks to the alcohol he loved so much.  

That’s why he ventured out into the kitchen at night, hoping to have a late-night snack before going to bed. He rummaged through the cupboards in search of a can of pringles he knew he’d hidden there, too distracted to hear the footsteps behind him. He was startled when a hand grabbed his hair and pulled him back, a scream escaping him as he fell on his back. It hurt, but his instincts kicked in and he knew he needed to _get up_.

Just as he was sitting up, Frank’s weight came down on him and pushed him back onto the tiled floor. Before Jim could shield his face, a punch landed hard on his nose and pain shot through his skull. He tried to grab at Frank’s arms to stop a second blow descending, but the heavy fist still hit his cheek and bounced his head on the cold tiles. Unable to stop Frank directly, Jim crossed his arms over his face. At the same time, he brought his knees up and tried to kick at his uncle, to no avail.

The punches stopped when Frank realized he wasn’t going to get much more damage done to Jim’s face, and for a second Jim felt relief. Then he felt two hands around his throat and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. He was trying desperately to scream again, but no sound came out. Frank lifted him off the floor by his throat and then slammed him down again, now yelling at him, but Jim couldn’t understand what he was saying.

He gasped for air that never entered his lungs. He could feel his vision darkening, white spots dancing in front of his eyes, and then Frank slammed his head into the tiles once more and he blacked out.

Jim came to slowly, his head throbbing and breathing impaired. He coughed violently as soon as he opened his eyes, breathing in through his mouth because his nose didn’t seem to work. He pushed himself into a sitting position, immediately feeling dizzy, lightheaded and sick to his stomach. When he licked his lips to wet them, he tasted blood, then realized the blood was coming from his nose.

He brought a hand up to his face, gently touching his bruised cheek, then the tip of his nose. The second touch made him flinch from the sharp pain that shot through his face. So aside from the concussion he obviously had, his nose was probably broken. He took deep, steadying breaths through his mouth, then forced himself onto his feet. He wobbled at first, then found his footing, keeping one hand on the wall as he made his way from the kitchen to the front door. He barely managed to slip his shoes on without collapsing.

Stepping out of the house, he leaned against the wall and pulled his phone from the pocket of his hoodie. He called for an Uber to take him to the hospital, then opened his text window with Nyota.

_Going hospital. Frank._

He couldn’t keep his vision straight enough to type more than that, so he sent the simple message just to let someone who cared know about his location. He put the phone back in his pocket before he could drop it, having at least memorized the license plate of the car that would pick him up.

Waiting felt like forever. Every intake of breath was a flash of pain to his already throbbing skull and he felt acid in the back of his throat. Finally, a black car pulled up in front of the house with the right license plate.

Jim walked over slowly, trying consciously not to trip and fall. He could tell the driver seemed disturbed by his appearance, but he allowed Jim to enter the back of the car and silently drove off towards the hospital. It was a struggle not to throw up in the vehicle, the movement only worsening his disorientation and nausea. Thankfully, he swallowed back the only attempt his dinner made to leave his body.

The driver pulled up to the hospital and, just as Jim was leaving, wished him luck. Jim didn’t know what good luck would do him now – perhaps escaping the need for surgery would be considered lucky.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait too long to be seen. The nurses asked him how he was injured and he chose to lie, claiming it was a bar fight that broke out over a woman. It was easier to cope with the lie, people wouldn’t pity him if they thought he was just some asshole who picked a fight with the wrong guy.

It turned out that his nose was broken and needed to be splinted. Not only that, he had a cut to the back of his head, where it had hit the tile repeatedly. They put him through a CT scan to ensure there was no internal bleeding in his brain, which thankfully there wasn’t.

After a few hours and a good dose of painkillers, he was discharged. It was only when he pulled out his phone to call an Uber home that he noticed the four missed calls and several texts from Nyota asking if he needed her to accompany him. He felt a pang of guilt for worrying his friend so much, but he knew it was better to have warned her in case his condition was something more serious.

 _I’m okay. Broken nose, concussion. Going home_ , he texted back. After a moment of consideration, he opened his camera and took a selfie with a weak smile, sending that to her. He knew he looked like shit, but the picture was proof he was getting through this.

 _You scared the hell out of me_ , came her near instant reply. _You can call the police on him_.

 _I’d rather not_. Just thinking about involving law enforcement in this terrified him. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he did depend on Frank. Not only that, there existed the possibility of not being taken seriously and incurring more of the man’s wrath. _I’ll be okay._

The ride back from the hospital was only slightly less nauseating. Jim made it from the car to the front door with little trouble, but then hesitated. Nothing could guarantee that Frank wouldn’t beat him again when he saw him up and about. It was late, but Frank didn’t have a good sleep schedule, he could still be awake.

Jim steeled himself, quietly turning the doorknob and pushing the door open slowly. He closed it behind him, making his way towards the stairs in silence. There he needed to anchor himself against the wall once more, making is way up one step at a time until he finally reached his bedroom. This time, he didn’t think twice before locking himself in.

He settled into bed, hoping the medication would help him sleep, before remembering a very important detail. This would affect his work. With some effort, he held his phone up over his face and typed a message to his boss, explaining that he had been in an accident and needed a few days off to recover. He fell asleep without receiving a reply.

In his sleep, he felt an enveloping warmth and reached for it. Some part of him knew it wasn’t real because nothing hurt and there were strong arms around his torso, a mouth pressing soft kisses over his shoulders. Still, he melted into the sensation, turning around to see a handsome face and hazel-green eyes.

“Bones,” he whispered adoringly, leaning forward to claim the other man’s lips in a gentle kiss. He felt fingers combing through his hair, that hand coming to cradle the back of his head. Jim sighed against Bones’ lips, then parted from them to rest his head against the man’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. Bones nuzzled the top of his head and pressed a gentle kiss there.

Jim was content to simply be held, soaking in the soft touch of Bones’ hands stroking his back. He was safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @hassumccoy or @daughterofdeath and on twitter @xhelasdottir.


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